Of Kindess and Cruelty
by bookworm1234567890
Summary: When you're a child, only two things can really be known: kindness and cruelty. Harry's life before Hogwarts, told in one shots. Rated T for potential violence.
1. Chapter 1: Hide And Don't Seek

This is probably the earliest one I'm going to write, the rest will probably be after he's a toddler.

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"Well, where do we put him?" Vernon asked his wife.

Petunia Dursley was only paying half attention to the question. The other fifty percent of her mind was directed to the baby in her arms. He looked nothing like Dudley; his eyes didn't look like Dudley's, nor did his hair, his skin, or the strange scar on his forehead. He didn't look like her son.

"Petunia?"

"Yes, Vernon?" She looked up unwillingly.

"Where do we _put_ him?" Vernon pointed at the baby like he was a bad book or a piece of trash. "Where do we put the boy?"

She was surprised that that was a question. "In the spare bedroom, of course."

Vernon turned a deeper shade of red. "Dudley's second bedroom? Petunia, where would he put all of his things?"

Petunia thought of the large room that was at the time filled ankle deep in things for Dudley. Toys, movies, cribs, strollers. All of them broken by the one-year-old tornado called Dudley.

Petunia looked back down at her nephew. She had to hide him, that was it. She had to hide him from the world. Who he was. What he could do. But where should she hide him?

She put herself into the mindset of a child playing hide-and-go-seek. She couldn't fit a bed under the table, and he would suffocate in the large chest of drawers.

A small door caught her attention.

"We'll put him in the cupboard under the stairs." There, no one could find him. They wouldn't seek him. He'd be safe.

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Personally, I think that Petunia was always a little on Harry's side, she just wasn't brave enough to stand up for him, please review!


	2. Chapter 2: Christmas Surprises

Okay, so this Christmas story is a little late. But I still think I needed one.

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The Dursley's did like to stick out in one respect. They had the brightest house during Christmas. Every inch of their home was Christmas-y. The roof was covered in lights, there was an inflatable Santa Claus on their roof, and they had picked the largest tree they could, which was decorated with the poorly made ornaments Dudley had created over his school years. Even the cupboard was decorated. Harry had hung his own ornaments from the small ceiling, and had taped the few Christmas cards he had received from his school-mates (but only because they had to give one to everybody) on the dusty walls.

Harry always looked forward to Christmas, as all children do, despite the fact that he had not once in his eight years received a decent gift. Sometimes, he got tissues or bits of broken toys. One year, he received three presents, all of them empty boxes.

Still, he had hope.

Maybe this year, they'd mess up, and accidently give him a computer game that was supposed to go to Dudley. Or maybe, Santa would take him away to go and live with him in the north pole and teach him magic.

Harry never gave up hope.

Eventually, the big day came. Christmas!

Harry woke up three hours early, at five o'clock. He couldn't get back to bed, not with all the presents under the tree. Not with that electric charge that only kids can feel that most wonderful of all mornings. But he would have to wait. Harry didn't really mind waiting, it just made everything better when you finally got what you wanted.

Dudley, however, was not so patient.

"IT'S CHRISTMAS! IT'S CHRISTMAS! WAKE UP, MUMMY AND DADDY, IT'S _!_"

Harry was hit with a small dust storm as his cousin ran down the stairs, coming down on them so hard that Harry feared the ceiling of his room would cave in.

There was a banging on his door. "Wake up, Potter! It's CHRISTMAS!"

Harry flew out of bed. "I'm coming!"

The boys raced to the living room (Harry winning of course), and both twitched with excitement at the sight of the tree, all lit and colorful, that seemed to glow with Christmas magic.

Petunia and Vernon entered about thirty seconds later, having of woken up early to light the tree and get some coffee.

"Let's see what Santa brought you, Duddy-dums!" Dudley's mother cooed, walking straight past the small black haired boy who was still wondering if he got anything decent. Vernon just slumped down on a chair, sipping his coffee. He was something of a Scrooge.

"Santa only gives presents to good boys, and our little Dinky-Duddikins has been a good boy!" Petunia sang. Harry was immediately reminded of three weeks ago, when Dudley's stupid friends held him down and Dudley beat him to a pulp. He, of course, did not comment. He was eight now, and therefore well trained.

Dudley ran to his stocking, and poured the contents out on the shampooed floor. He grabbed a large chocolate Santa off the top and bit its head off. Not taking even a second to look at the other things in his stocking, Dudley waddled over to the tree and ducked down underneath it. His face didn't resurface in till every last one of his gifts had been revealed, taken out of their packaging, and, in some cases, broken. When he did emerge, he was smiling like a- well, like a kid at Christmas.

Petunia and Vernon exchanged one or two gifts, kissing and thanking after each plainly wrapped one was revealed to be a new electric shaver or blender.

And, as all of this was going on, the small eight year old wizard politely waited, hands folded, on the last chair.

Mr. Dursley threw a small cloth package on his lap. It was…

A teddy bear. A worn out teddy bear that Dudley had thrown away three months ago. Harry hid it from his fat cousin- who was at that point trying to force two parts of a remote controlled robot together- and said "thank you."

The Dursleys went to the kitchen to eat breakfast. Harry, however, went to his cabinet, and put the stuffed animal on his lumpy bed.

He would never tell you, but that teddy bear was in the bottom of Harry's trunk all throughout his Hogwarts years. He also kept it as an adult, that is, in till he gave it to his son, James, for Christmas.

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Please Review!


	3. Chapter 3: The Girl Who Loved Him First

Okay, this is a really long one, and one that I had been working on for a while. I originally wanted to make the dialog more British, but I decided that I'd probably mess up. So it's written in American. Sorry.

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Although she would never admit it, Amelia Carter had a crush on Harry Potter. She was completely taken by him. Everything about him appealed to her. He had classic good looks, obvious intelligence, and this air of-for lack of a better word- magic. It was hard to explain, but she could definitely feel _something_, an otherworldliness that made it hard to not stare at the boy out of the corner of her eye.

She first knew that she liked him in third grade. The very first day of third grade, actually. She had just transferred to his school, her family having of moved. The teacher told her to introduce herself.

She stumbled through a brief synopsis of her nine years of life, explaining her pet hamster and her love of cats and the color orange in a shy tone.

The teacher, Mrs. Richards, smiled politely and asked her to take a seat, pointing to the only available one, next to a boy with messy black hair and glasses. He smiled at her, moving his old knapsack to make room for her new one. "Hi, I'm Harry."

She smiled back at him. He seemed nice, if ratty. The fact that his clothing was all too big and full of holes didn't escape her, not that it bugged her. She didn't judge people by their wealth.

Mrs. Richards took attendance, and Amelia learned that the boy's last name was Potter. Harry Potter, that was a nice name. She wondered if he had any siblings. She wondered what his favorite color was. She wondered what he liked to do in his spare time. She wondered where his friends where.

Not that she was going to ask, Mom always said it was rude to pry.

Soon, the class was being told the rules of the class. Respect each other. Listen to the teacher. Be helpful. Pay attention. Blah, blah, blah. All the time Amelia was looking through her thin brown hair at Harry Potter, who seemed to be daydreaming. His eyes were green. Green was such a pretty color.

The teacher said that they were going to play a game. Everyone was going to be given a small piece of paper, and they would have to write three things about themselves. Seemed simple. She jotted down her uniform list of things, the list that every public school student develops. 'Likes cats, hates the color pink, likes to play soccer…"

"Okay," Mrs. Richards cooed, "now trade with the person sitting next to you."

Since they were the only two people at the table, Harry and Amelia switched sheets. She was anxious to see what he wrote. 'Loves snakes, Never left England, Hates math.'

It wasn't really tell-all.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. Since it was the first day, no real work was done, just a summary of the following year. Soon, lunch break came and the students were allowed to go to the playground for recess.

Harry and Amelia sat together, since neither of them had any alternative.

"So," Harry asked after a few moments of awkward chewing, "how do you like school?"

"It's okay." She nibbled on the crust of her sandwich, wishing she had something better to say to this mysterious boy. "I mean, it _is_ school."

He smiled. "I know. Sometimes I wish I could just wave my hands and graduate."

She giggled, glad that they were on joking terms. "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I don't know, I think I might want to be a magician."

She could visualize him pulling a rabbit out of his top hat, saying _Abracadabra!_ and bowing to an adoring crowd. "I'm sure you'd be great."

His eyes brightened, like no one had ever complimented him before. "You think so?"

"Yes," she blushed, "I do."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

"I think I want to be a librarian."

He looked confused. "Why?"

Her blush grew. "I don't know, I just love books. It would be fun to make a job of reading."

He nodded. "You'd be a good librarian."

She looked down. "Thanks. No one's ever said that."

He chuckled. "No one's ever said I'd be a good magician."

"Why not?"

"I jus-"

"Hey, Potter!" A large boy with blonde hair yelled as he approached the two. "Who's your girlfriend?"

Harry looked up, suddenly angry. "She's not my girlfriend, Dudley. Go away!"

A few of the fat boy's friends laughed like total idiots. "Girlfriend." "Potter." "Go away."

Dudley just walked up to Amelia, suddenly calm. "Fine then. Aren't you going to introduce me to your _friend_?"

Harry glared at the boy. "Amelia, this is my cousin, Dudley. Dudley, this is Amelia."

He offered her his hand, which was chubby and sweaty. She took it warily. Amelia didn't like Dudley.

"If I were you, I wouldn't be hanging out with him. He's a freak."

Amelia looked at Harry's stupid cousin. "I think I can sort the freaks out for myself, actually." She took Harry's hand and led him to another spot in the playground. "Why is he like that to you?"

Harry looked down. "It's a long story. I'll tell you later."

The teacher told everyone to come back inside.

Over the next few years, Harry and Amelia grew apart. She started hanging out with a large group of girls, and Harry just spent all of his time alone. He was so mysterious.

But that didn't mean that Amelia didn't try to find as much as she could about him.

Once, she asked a friend. "Why doesn't he live with his parents?"

Lindsey looked up. "Harry Potter? He's an orphan. Parents died in a car crash."

Three months later, she asked her friend Georgina about his scar. "He got it in the car crash that killed his parents."

She was always asking about him. Her friends all knew that she liked him, but they didn't tell anyone, girls' code of honor and all that.

Then, there were the _incidents_. Wherever Harry went, _strangeness_would follow. Once, for example, he turned Edwin McAlister's skin purple. Another time, he made a mop move across a floor, tripping a teacher. People seemed to avoid him, they all thought he was a freak.

But Amelia knew the truth: Harry Potter was not a freak; Harry Potter was magic.

Eventually, when he should have been a sixth grader, he didn't come to school. He transferred, but Amelia didn't know where. She asked his cousin about it, and he said that he went to a school for freaks.

Amelia never heard from him again.

But that didn't mean that she stopped thinking about him. Oh no. For the rest of her life, Amelia would be wondering about her crush. Harry Potter, the boy who never left England, liked snakes, and wanted to be a magician. She wished him the best of luck, wherever he went.

She would never know just how much he needed it.

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I had always found it hard to believe that none of the girls liked Harry. And let's face it, behind every hero there is a girl who was in love with him before he hit puberty. As always, please review!


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